


S I L E N C E & C H A O S

by pikachuchip



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Accident, Angst, BoyxBoy, Deaf Character, Drug Abuse, Eventual Smut, Gay, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Liam Payne - Freeform, M/M, Maybe HAppy ending, Niall Horan - Freeform, Nurse - Freeform, Past Child Abuse, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, a lot of it, biggest fear, harry - Freeform, harry styles and louis tomlinson - Freeform, haven't decided - Freeform, like who are they kidding, louis - Freeform, musician - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, probably not, the amazing irish one, trigger warning, zayn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7794424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikachuchip/pseuds/pikachuchip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all silent when Harry woke up. A never ending silence that rang in his ears. It was the end of everything he loved. The end of his career. No more violin, no more music, no more sounds. Just silence.</p>
<p>It was all chaos when Louis woke up. It felt as if he were underwater; drowning in his own guilt and thoughts. Yet he was pulled out by the commotion of the frantic nurses. He thought he had ended it all, but he survived. </p>
<p>The story of two broken souls that can't be fixed with a little duct tape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	S I L E N C E & C H A O S

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, my biggest fear in story form. 
> 
> Be careful when reading the story. It goes deep into a lot of topics that aren't very comfortable for a lot of people. Read the tags carefully.
> 
>  
> 
> If you have any problems or just want to talk, message me on my tumblr:  
> itsthesafespaces.tumblr.com

I felt numb. Yet, there was only pain. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. I felt clueless. Did I even know anything? The only thought that resonated truly, deep throughout my soul was:

_It hurts._

I woke up to lights blinding me; with no recollection of where I was. My memories were scattered, making no sense. It was as if I was lucidly dreaming. The only thing that was ever so present, was a constant state of silence. My ears weren’t ringing from the pain. I only felt the thudding sensations of my heart in my ears. I heard nothing. It was just myself and my thoughts in a dark abyss of confusion and pain.

Like molasses, I started making sense of my surroundings: a heart monitor blinking, an IV dripping drugs into my veins, and a vanilla folder on the door with the words, “ **PATIENT FILE** ”. I tugged on my curly locks to try to grasp a memory. Anything. I remembered my name: Harry Styles. My mum and sister were waiting for me. We were going to go ice skating in London. Is it Christmas time? What day is it? _Focus._ I rubbed my temples as if to ooze the memories out. The room started getting clearer as my eyes scoped the walls for any clues. As my eyes scoped the room, I zeroed in on the fine print which was written on the vanilla folder. I made out the words, "Car Accident." 

It was as if the flood gates had been opened. The symphonies of crashes and screams replayed in my head. The melodies composed by cries for help and bystanders telling me that it was going to be _ok._ The harmonies which were introduced by the wailing sirens in the distance loud and bold until the whole world got fuzzy. I remember the scene. A car with a motorcycle indent was crashed on the side of the road. My black motorcycle was a few feet in front of me, smashed beyond repair. There was blood pooling around my body with the addition of a never ending ringing in my ears. _Was I wearing a helmet? What happened? Where's my family? Please God, l et this be a dream._ Without giving me a chance to make sure I wasn't dreaming, what appears to be a friendly, woman walks into the room.

Her mouth is moving, yet no sounds come out. The thudding in my head starts getting faster like a rabbit thumping away. Her eyes are full of sadness making her young face look odd. But like a switch, her brown eyes become alarmed. She begins to hurriedly press buttons in distress. Her petite figure barely reaches the machines above my bed. I’m trying to formulate sentences. I swear I’m asking for water, but I don’t hear the words come out of my mouth.

I don’t hear the swarm of doctors rush into my small room. I don’t hear the flurry of questions that they rapidly try to ask me. There’s so _much_ commotion, despair, but no sounds. I start hyperventilating, while losing sensations of the room. It’s so loud but so quiet. My thoughts scream out. There's nothing but fear, pain, numbness, and complete frustration.

I feel the tears track down my face and the taste of salt on my tongue. My breathing isn’t slowing down and there are dark spots that cloud my vision. Abruptly, a sense of clarity washes over my senses. A warm, brown hand touches my shoulder and it’s the nurse that had originally walked in. Her round face stares at my panicked green eyes with a calming look. I look down and I realize she is wearing a ducky nurse outfit with a nametag that says, “Iris Manwani”.

She over pronunciates her words and I read her lips, “Are you **_ok_ **?”

I break down into an even more emotional mess, clutching onto the smaller frame of this woman named Iris. I don’t even know what ok is anymore. Is ok a fake reality that is expected after waking up in a hospital with no sounds? Is ok not being ok?

Eternities pass, and I’m still hugging the warm woman. Clutching on to the little piece of normality. A human gesture used to comfort, celebrate, cry: _this_ is ok. I know what's wrong with me, but the denial is too great. Knowing that I will no longer hear strikes me. It's as if a knife has gone straight through me, and gutted me in the deepest parts of my soul.

Never in the last twenty years that I've lived, had I thought my greatest fear would come true. As a man that just merely existed, the emotions were too powerful. But then a cry left my body when I came upon the realisation that I will never _hear_ music again.

The sensation of strings under my fingers will have no meaning, for I will not be able to hear the soft cries of the violin. The thundering booming of the piano will not even be a mere squeak. The weeping of the guitar will not even resonate within me. Just silence.

I look up at the angel who holds me as I crumble and respond with what I think sounds, “No. I'm not ok.”

Her eyes fill up with emotions, and overflow with tears. She pulls me into her chest and lets me weep, while the violent sobs rack throughout my whole body causing me physical pain. My chest tightens and it feels as if my lungs have shrunk to the size of peas. I attempt to take gulps of air, but all I manage to do is choke. I try to back away from Iris, with hopes that I'll start breathing again. With no prevail, my throat starts closing in minimizing my possibilities of breathing.  _Just breathe. In and out. Why can't I breathe?_

I see the heart monitor flashing erratically, and with that, the room comes alive again. The doctors and nurses appear to be trying to fix the problem, but they don't get it. Everything is wrong with me now. A musician that can't hear, is like an ocean without fish. Why even exist? Do I even have a purpose? Iris tries to get me to focus on her; anything but my thoughts.

Yet as the room begins to fade into darkness - moments away by being consumed by endless mute nightmares - I can only think how much this feels like the end. The inevitable doom we are all forced to meet, but mine has seemed to arrive early. With that final thought I'm engulfed by darkness. By silence.


End file.
